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"Do Not Pat Yourself On The Back" (by Joe DiMino)

Do not pat yourself on the back--
You alone could not
Have murdered America;
But the elements of dead
In Time were on your side--
For She was ripe for the picking;
Fat for the plucking--
Old with wealth
While youthfully naïve, refusing to believe
Her enemy could
Come from within--the kind of enemy
Over which none of us can win
Without God's help
Long relegated
To the kangaroo
Of well-stacked courts,
Your Puppet-Press portraying sincere opposition
As Jesters and Buffoons--

(She was
The mother of stallions
While also
The womb of many
A jealous groom);

Socialist dictator's sing your praise,
Fool!--not realizing you have entered their maze
Perfected long before you were even born
Our rise to demise--
With eyes
They all
Are apparent lies--open yours;

The world should weep;
For when we fall--
Their pacifier and blankie
Though they did not know--
Out of our Totalitarian
Great darkness will grow,
No longer our Light to
Protect them,
Freedom's Right
Gone from their grasp
Beneath their Blankie
The slither of an asp;

But to blame one man
Would be wrong;
Suns have risen for this nation
Out of many a gloom;
And we have breathed
Of succulent air,
Inhaled warmth deeply
To make of our
Lungs stars--
Exhaled divinely,
And for this
The world will once again
Come to not forget--
We have seen such
Glory before
Turned to ash--
Remains on the pyres
Of our collective souls;
Have seen such grandeur
Sink to the deepest trenches--
Praying that God
Would not think us
Too far from surface
To even bother
A merciful dive;

No--do not pride yourself
On such shallow victory;

The reshaping of the future
Long ago lost
To lead shapes of our past--

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